


Dream Catcher

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:34:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Blair wrote of the Sentinels:  "their insight will further illuminate the spiritual connection of all things".  Jim helps Blair find his destiny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream Catcher

**Author's Note:**

> *shuffles forward and blows into the microphone* Is this on? 
> 
> I am but a humble lurker, but I have a most talented friend. 
> 
> Thank you, MJ, for the wonderful birthday present that was too special to keep to myself. She said Dream Catcher was mine to do with as I wished...so here it is. :D Please direct any comments to the author at Saunderson.Marion@tbs-sct.gc.ca 

## Dream Catcher

by MJ

Author's disclaimer: Well, they are not ours. And actually, they are probably a lot safer that way. :D

* * *

Dream Catcher 

By  
MJ 

To Marilyn on her birthday  
September 10,1999 

The pile by the door was getting bigger and bigger. Jim shook his head and yelled, "Sandburg, get your skinny butt out here!" 

Blair opened his bedroom door and peered out. His hair was all flyaway and his face all pink. He had been bending over digging in his cupboard searching for the woollen sweater that he just knew was in there somewhere or so Jim had concluded from his overheard mumbling. "Yah, Jim?" 

"How long do you think we are going for?" Jim's voice got a bit gruff as he tried not to think how adorable Blair looked. 

"Well, I know you said an extended weekend but whether you mean three days or four days I couldn't say." He ignited a smile and started to disappear into his room again. 

"Wait! Ok, so four days. But what is all this?" He gestured at the mound of bags. 

"Just the necessities, Jim." 

A snort, "For an invasion of Canada maybe but for a weekend in the Cascade Forest, I do not think so, Chief." 

A grin. "Be fair, it is just about fall, man and the nights up there this time of year can get pretty cold. Then there is the possibility of rain." 

"Or snow," Jim added dryly. 

"Oh, shit, I didn't think of that! Got to pack my boots and my down snow jacket..." 

"Chief, no snow. I promise you." 

"And if you are wrong? How do I keep warm?" Blair bounced on his toes, all playful assertiveness. 

<Oh, don't tempt me like that, babe!> "We build a fire with a windbreak and cosy down in the tent." 

A laugh. "Cosy down, eh? Well, I am in your hands on this one, Sentinel." Jim's stomach muscles clenched at the thought. "You ready yet?" 

"Almost, just got to find my sweater." 

"Which one?" 

"That blue one, with the crossweave of darker blue?" 

Oh, damn, he loved Blair in that sweater. "In the cupboard in the hallway to the basement. Second shelf. Left side." 

Not surprized at Jim's ability to recall where things were in the loft, Blair darted out into the hallway that led to their storage room in the basement. A yip of success and he was back. "Great, thanks, man. Should have asked you in the first place. So, now I am ready." 

"Going to take us a while to get all this loaded. Why don't you start with the food and I'll take these." 

"On it, Jim." 

In twenty minutes they had everything stored to Jim's satisfaction in the truck and were on their way. The sun was just rising, the air cool in that way it was early in the fall, brisk without being cold. It had been a busy couple of months for both of them, Blair getting through the Academy and Jim working without his partner most of the time. He never realized how much energy he had drawn from Blair being with him on cases. Now they were officially partners on the job. No one could revoke Blair's permission to ride with Jim and the bigger man was relieved. More than relieved, happy. 

To celebrate and to renew themselves, they had arranged to take time off and make this camping trip up into the Cascade Forest. Jim was looking forward to the quiet. Not quiet but to the peace of being set down in the sounds and smells of nature instead of the noise and stink of the city. Blair too needed the break and the re-energizing camping in an almost wilderness area would give. 

It took them 3 hours to make the journey even with the accelerated pace of Jim's driving. No traffic, so he felt comfortable pushing the truck over 55. Ten mph over 55. As he drove, Jim grinned to himself. Blair had teased him over the years about the speed he chose to drive. Usually within the speed limits but every now and then, the urgency of a case nagging at him, he would shove that pedal down. Always seemed to involve going around corners on less than four wheels. Also required him to put out his right arm and brace Blair,  
notwithstanding that the younger man would have his seatbelt on. His Guide and his need as the Sentinel to protect the Guide. Or something like that. 

* * *

They were able to get the truck within a quarter mile of their campsite but it was still necessary to carry in all the bits and pieces Blair had insisted on bringing. Three trips it took and on the last leg of the last trip, Jim watched as Blair huffed and puffed. 

"Man, who knew how heavy all this would be." 

"That, Darwin, is what I was trying to tell you." 

"Well, how was I to know what a route march we had to make. Our usual spot is not so far in." 

"This place is special, Chief. Going to be worth the effort. Trust me." 

"I do, Jim. Just wish it was a bit closer." He laughed and readjusted the bags he was carrying. 

At the spot on the trail where it divided into three, Jim had had them pile their supplies. Leaving Blair with the pile, he wandered through the trees, searching for the spot he had been told about. Around a rocky outcrop and there it was. Back to Blair at the double. "This way, Chief, just past that big pine to the left. See, there?" 

"Yup." He started off with Jim quickly behind him, the big man wanting to see Blair's first reaction to the campsite. As Blair stepped out into a clearing, he cried out and stopped dead. "Oh my god, this is... damn, it is perfect." His face lit up with pleasure. 

In front of them was the crystalline water of a long narrow lake surrounded by steep-sided rock cliffs that dropped straight down into the water. To the left, about 100 yards away was a waterfall, spray all rainbows in the sunshine, water falling 25 feet down into a dark pool at the edge of the lake. At their backs, a mixed pine, fir and birch forest filled the air with its sharp clean scent. The only sounds were the wind softly in the treetops and the calls of chickadee and raven, their voices echoing off the rocky bluffs. Jim felt the peace of the place seeping into his being already. 

"My god, Jim. How... who... where..." Blair had gone inarticulate. 

"Missed a few, Chief. When and why." He grinned at the excitement in Blair's face. 

"Fish?" 

"Yup." 

"Trails?" 

"Over that way. And they promised me a canoe somewhere...yes, there it is, under the trees, covered up." 

"Can I stay here the rest of my life?" 

A laugh. "You might have to go out for those winter boots." 

"How come we get to be here? I mean, how come there is no one else...?" 

"It is set up like this... only one camp site allowed." 

"So how..." a sudden realization, "you arranged this weeks ago, didn't you?" 

"You might say that. The ranger who handles this site is a friend and owes me a favour. A big favour. I mentioned wanting to find a new site to camp in the Forest and he suggested this one. Got us on a priority-booking list. So... here we are." Jim failed to mention that Steve, his friend the ranger, interpreted Jim's request for an isolated and impressive site as a desire for a romantic spot. He had teased Jim about getting hooked by some blue eyed beauty and the Sentinel had agreed without giving further details. The arrangements had been expedited. 

"Oh man, what was the favour for? You save his life six times?" 

"Not quite. Let's get the rest of our stuff here and then we can set up the tent." 

"Right, Jim." The 'tired' Guide tore off through the trees. Jim grinned and followed him. 

Within the hour they had the tent set up, the supplies stored and the canoe carried down to the water. Inside the canoe, there were two fishing rods and two paddles. 

"Man, this guy delivers." Blair tested both rods and found one was perfect for him. "You tell him the weight of rod I use?" 

"Not much point having an unbalance rod, Chief. Steve is a good guy and favour or not, I knew he would arrange everything. Just gave him a bit of info." 

"We have got to get out there. Now!" 

"At your command, Chief." 

They pushed off, disturbing the mirrored surface of the lake and paddled smoothly, their practised rhythm settling in quickly. Since it was early yet, barely ten o'clock, they decided to tour the lake and identify the best fishing spots. The lake was deep, the water black except at the surface where the sunlight turned it into a silver blue. 

About a mile long but less than a quarter of a mile across at its widest, the lake was one produced by the scraping of a glacier retreating north millions of years ago or so Blair explained in a hushed voice. Neither of them wanted to disturb the peaceful quiet. Their paddling was almost silent, leaving a few ripples on the water and involving no noisy splashes. Jim glanced back and saw the long, narrow tracks of their passage form and disappear on the surface of the water. 

A few moments later, they saw a hawk swoop down and grab a fish from the lake about 100 yards ahead of them. Jim watched it flap away into the trees on the far side of the lake, the trout arching its back trying to escape. Other fish surfaced in a sun-dappled quiet pool near the shore, snatching the flies congregating on the water. Jim pointed at the spot and made casting motions. Blair nodded. A good place to come back that evening or early the next morning with their fishing rods. 

The trip around the lake took them until nearly noon and both men were hungry when they arrived back at their campsite. 

"You get the food out and I'll find some wood. Steve said there were plenty of fallen trees after last winter." 

"Right I'll find some stones for a fire pit. Going to need some sticks for a spit." 

"Check out that bag there. I packed the spit and rack set." 

A grin. "What was that about me bringing too much?" 

"I knew we would be setting up a spit, Chief. To roast those fish we are going to catch." He left Blair to organize the cooking pit and the food while he took a canvas wood carrier and the axe to gather firewood. It did not take him long to fill the carrier. In his search, he saw several likely fallen trees sufficient for their fire wood needs over the weekend. 

When he entered their camp again, he saw that Blair had the fire pit built and the spit uprights and crosspiece in place. He even had a pile of dry grass and twigs ready for kindling. The kettle was set to one side, still damp from being filled in the lake. The younger man was busily mixing the ingredients for soup in the hanging pot they had brought, the plastic packaging in the non-organic refuse sack to be taken out with them. A rule of this park, no non-organics to be left behind. 

Jim stood quietly for a moment, contemplating the young man where he knelt next to the fire pit. All his shoulder muscles were in motion as he stirred the soup mix vigorously into the water. The sun was warming the exposed nape of his neck, pale from being hidden under that wonderful riot of hair. The strong light was making the hair glow, all the red highlights etched in gold. All soft like new grass or silk or so Jim dreamed it must be. His eyes dropped down the line of the back to the roundness of the buttocks, displayed so beautifully in that kneeling position. Moving a bit to the right he could see the way Blair's thighs were splayed open and flattened slightly against his calves. All hard muscle and taut in that position. 

Jim sighed and told himself to enjoy looking because that was all there was to have. He hoisted his bulging sack of wood and headed over to the fire pit. 

"Here we go, Chief. Enough to do lunch." 

"Great. Found a good source of for dried twigs and whatnot back there," gesturing toward the waterfall, "just ready to be picked up. I'll get some more later." With a skill honed by long practice, Blair ignited the wood Jim added to the fire pit and in a few moments, had the soup pot and kettle hanging over the fire. "We got those sandwiches I made last night. That going to be enough?" 

"Oh yeah. What about we get some more wood after lunch, go for a walk around the waterfall and check out the area behind here. Maybe we can find some berries. Likely spot for blueberries or even wild raspberries." 

"As long as there are no bears. Not going to fight some bear for a few berries. I have a pact with bears. I do not eat what they say are their berries and they do not eat me." A pause. "Any bears around, by the way?" 

"Steve says not many around here and since we are so late in the year, most of them have headed deeper into the forest. I'll hear one or smell one long before they become a danger." He heard Blair's soft exhalation at the reassurance. 

The soup and sandwiches hit the spot and nothing was left of either after the meal. Jim rinsed out the pot and bowls in the lake after scrubbing them clean with sand from the shoreline. He led Blair to where he had found the fallen trees. Because they were in a sunny glade, the logs were even dry. Perfect for a campfire. Between the two of them they dragged three of the logs back to their camp. Blair's idea was that they would chop them up as they needed them rather than spending the afternoon chopping them all. He pointed out that they could even use them as seats until needed for firewood. Jim agreed, feeling a bit lazy. 

A leisurely stroll over to the waterfall. The spray was cool on Jim's face and he was glad the weather report was for warm days this weekend. 

"Looks like a good swimming spot here, Chief. See how deep that pool is? Bring your suit?" 

"Well, yah but man, that is going to be cool." 

"You bet. We'll walk, chop some wood and then be ready for a refreshing dip before we go out to fish." 

Blair laughed. "What we going to do after that, build a log cabin?" 

"You never know, Chief." 

They continued on their walk and found a nice large patch of late season raspberries. In no time the pot Jim had brought was full and no sign of any bears. Blair's mouth was stained from nibbling the sweet fruit, his tongue all red with it. Jim had to turn away for wanting to lick those lush lips clean. In the next open area, they found some wild asparagus and another leafy green that Blair assured Jim would be delicious with lake trout. They noticed a couple of trails leading deeper into the woods. Those they would explore tomorrow. 

* * *

Back in camp, Blair put the tight lid on the pot of berries. He dug a hole in the shore sand, just into the lake water, and slipped in the covered pot. The luscious fruit would stay cool until dinner time. Though Jim had spoken of chopping wood, Blair convinced him the fish would be biting now in the late afternoon and that he had no intention of missing the biggest fish in the lake just to watch Jim chop some wood. 

The lazy mood still on him, Jim agreed again. He pulled off his boots and socks and rolled up his pant legs. "All right, Chief but don't blame me tonight when we run out of fire wood and the icy wind blows off the lake and right into your sleeping bag." 

"No way, man. You promised me there would be no icy wind." Blair gathered up the fishing rods and their canvas hats, all stained from previous fishing trips. 

"I believe that was about snow, not cold wind." Jim waded out into the cool water of the lake to drag the canoe deep enough to float. 

"Icy wind, snow, it is all cold. You are my Blessed Protector." Having taken off his own boots and socks, Blair stepped gingerly into the water. "Yipes! That's cold, that's cold, that's cold!" When he reached the canoe, he stored the rods under the seat boards. 

"And you are my little guppy. Flop those little flippers aboard." Jim, seated in the back of the canoe, wobbled it back and forth as Blair attempted to step in. "Easy there, rough seas ahead!" 

"Ha ha. Be nice or I will make you eat that tofu I brought." 

"Oh, you mean that funny looking bait stuff? I tried it out on the fish here and they gagged it up. No way I am eating that either. Sentinels need proper food." Jim stopped rocking the canoe, now holding it steady as Blair got in. 

A snort. "Yah, like Wonderburger? Enough grease to lube up your truck in every bite. Death on a bun." He shook his head at Jim, turning on the narrow seat board to flash a cheeky grin. "I like you too much to let you ruin your life like that, man. It's that or I do not want to have to move again after they cart you out to the meat wagon. Apt name." He grabbed the paddle Jim extended to him. 

"Paddle, Little Feather. Paddle. The fish await." 

They cast their lines in the now shaded pool they had scoped out in their lake tour. For a while Jim let his line drift in the water, just sitting and allowing the air to fill his lungs and the tranquillity to soothe him. The early evening air was gentle and sweet. Maybe Blair was right. They should move here and never leave. 

"Hey, you haven't zone out back there, have you?" 

"Just letting the city air out and the forest air in, Chief." 

Blair cast his line into the water and glanced back, a relaxed expression on his face. "That is the best part of fishing, hnn? Doing nothing but taking in the scene and growing mellow." 

"You bet. Hey, you got a bite there!" Jim pointed to Blair's bowing rod. 

"Whoe!!" The line was pulling out fast and Blair had to hurry to catch up. He reeled and reeled, firmly but not too fast. 

Jim admired his technique for a moment before picking up the net. "Here, Chief get him around this side." Jim leaned down and scooped up the trout, a good sized one. "First blood to you." He held up the trout by its gills, assessing it at 4 pounds. Blair grinned and challenged Jim to get into the game. The man with the fewest fish had to clean and scale all the catch of the day. 

Between the two of them, over the next two hours, they reeled in 8 fish, trout all of them. Two they tossed back as too small. Satisfied they had caught enough for supper and even breakfast and both getting hungry again, they headed back to camp. 

Since Blair had caught more fish, Jim got to clean the ones they picked out for supper. Blair cooked the trout stuffed with the greens he had picked that afternoon. As the last of the sun's rays coloured the sky above the lake, they devoured succulent grilled trout with potatoes baked in the fire, all washed down with lake-chilled beer. For afters, some of their raspberries cooked with sugar, flour and eggs in the frying pan into something Blair called Grunt. Not a crumb of anything was left. 

Sipping the last of his beer, Jim leaned back against one of the remaining logs and sighed. "How come it tastes so much better out here?" 

"The air, man and the peace. Improves the appetite and the digestion." 

Blair was toasting his feet, getting them as close as he dared to the fire. The temperature had fallen once the sun had disappeared and Blair had got wet feet in rinsing off the supper dishes. "We were never meant to live in big cities made of concrete. We are animals. Should be here in nature." Then he swatted at a couple of mosquitoes that were buzzing around him. "Get away!" 

"Bugs ok too, Chief?" 

"Sure except for the big and very annoying Pestus Sentinalus. Known to buzz incessantly about damp towels on the bathroom floor and dust bunnies under beds." A smirk. 

"Well there is also the Guidus Shamanicus, that most noisy of bugs, continuous sound without any purpose. Leaving a mess wherever it has been. Not very big but ...hairy." 

Blair tossed a stick at him but Jim caught it and used it to poke at the fire. Then Jim yawned and Blair followed suit. 

"Oh man, seems like we are getting a message here. Time to hit the sack." 

After he poured a potfull of water on the fire, Jim put out a hand to his friend. "Up, Chief unless you are planning to stay there." 

Blair extended his arms up to Jim and batted his eyes. "Carry me?" 

It was so unexpected that Jim burst out laughing, his head thrown back, his hands in the air. When he slowed, caught his breath and glanced down, Blair was wiggling his eyebrows at him and it started all over again. Then Blair stood up and cupped his hands under his chin. 

"Oh please, Mr. Sentinelman, save me," in a silly falsetto. 

Gasping with laughter, "Sa...ve you? From ...what?" 

"The dark night filled with lions and tigers and bears." More eye batting. 

"Ah, aren't we mixing story lines here? I thought we were doing the Perils of Pauline not the Wizard of OZ." 

"Whatever." Arms flung wide. "OH, SAVE ME!" 

Jim grabbed Blair and threw him over his shoulder. No mean feat either. The smaller man was not a lightweight and Jim felt his back strain with the burden. A few steps to the left before he was able to stagger in more or less a straight line to the tent and with a groan, elbow his way in. 

"OK, Pricilla Pitiful, down you go." He half dumped Blair from his shoulder, making sure the younger man landed on his feet. 

"You're no silent film hero, Jim. I am disappointed." Then he ruined it all by yawning again. 

Jim leapt back, hand flung to his forehead. "My heavens to Betsey, I almost fell into the Grand Canyon there," pointing to Blair's mouth. 

"Yah, ha, ha...awww." Another yawn. "Damn, I almost fell in that time." 

Happy grins and they both got undressed and spread out their sleeping bags on either side of the tent. There was enough room for each of them plus the backpacks they had brought. Just enough. Jim did up the tent flap and slipped into his sleeping bag. Blair was wiggling around from side to side in his sleeping bag and digging under it. 

"Chief, you doing some sort of forest bedtime dance over there?" 

"Trying to find the boulder or log or whatever is under here. Hmmpt. There." He tossed a small stone on top of his backpack. "Night, Jim." 

"Night, Chief." As he snuggled into the sleeping bag, in a dry throwaway fashion, "You make breakfast." 

"Why me? Isn't it your turn?" 

"I scale the fish, you cook. The balance of nature." 

"Funny, Jim. Very funny." A snort of derision. "Not!" 

"Nature isn't funny, Chief, just right. Better get to sleep. Morning will come awfully early." 

"Hmmpt." But Blair settled once again and within a few minutes, Jim heard his breathing shift into a sleep pattern. 

* * *

Something woke Jim. A noise on the edge of his consciousness, a sound that did not belong to his Guide or to this forest.Silently, he rose and peered out into the pre-dawn gloom. A quick scan of the camp site and there, among the trees on the far side of the clearing, a movement. He focussed and then he recognized it. His panther spirit. 

The creature glided around a fallen tree into the open, great black head cocked as it eyed Jim where he had stepped out of the tent. The Sentinel walked slowly but purposefully toward the panther. As he got within five feet of the fallen log where it waited, the panther whirled and loped off into the forest. Jim could not resist chasing after it, using his Sentinel vision to avoid the rocks and other forest obstacles. 

As he ran, Jim thought, not for the first time, how primal was his relationship with the great cat. They were both locked into the rhythms of nature, of the spirit world. Drawn irresistibly to each other. The panther appeared to him and when it ran, he pursued. A game, an intimate connection, an instinctual reaction? Who knew? Blair, if anyone. He should ask the Guide to explain it. 

The chase ended. The panther had entered another clearing and was circling the greyed wooden ribs of a low dome. As he came closer, Jim could see an ornate fire pit within the dome. There was a stillness about this place that intrigued. The Sentinel touched one of the wooden ribs and in a flash, saw the structure covered in an interweaving of pine and fir branches, smoke rising from the peak of its dome. Over the doorway was a deer skin. He smelt sweet grass burning and heard a man mumbling prayers within. 

Without moving, Jim was inside. Before him, cross-legged on the ground before the fire pit was a man, steam and smoke rising around him from fire pit stones. And in the hazy air, something else drifted around the man. A shape, shapes. The shapes centred on the man and when they touched him, his back arched and he cried out. 

Jim jerked away from the sharp noise of the cry, pulling his hand from the wooden rib. The vision disappeared. The panther was gone. A soft snuffling somewhere in the woods. Birds were chittering their early morning territorial warnings in a forest moist with dew. All was coming awake to the day, the air cool and fresh. A flap of wings above Jim's head. His eyes looked up to the tree tops, twenty feet above, where the sun was colouring the top branches of the pines. Far above, in a pale sky, the track of a jet on its way to Canada. A moment's focus and he could hear its engines, see its tail logo: a large red maple leaf on a dark background. A second of seeing it and it was gone, hidden by the tree tops. 

Jim blinked and suddenly Blair's voice came to him. 

"Oh, man, where is he? JIM! JIM, COME ON, MAN. JIM! No fair, going off like that. JIM!" 

The Sentinel trotted back toward their camp, needing to get to the Guide. As instinctual a reaction as the one with the panther if Jim had thought about it. 

"Geez, Jim, why do you do this? How long has he been gone? JIM! JIM!!" An edge of panic starting in the voice and Jim sped up. 

"Shit, shit, shit. Why didn't I hear him get up? What kind of Guide am I? JIM!! Damn, he could be zoned out and I've got no idea where he is. **JIMMMM!!!"**

The Sentinel stepped into the clearing. "Right here, Chief," voice calm and deep. 

Blair jumped. "Don't do that, man! Where have you been? Why didn't you wake me? You could have got in trouble out there. Got to be with you to help you, man." 

The Sentinel touched the Guide, satisfying his own need to be near the Guide and in the same gesture, calming Blair. "Sorry, Chief. I heard a noise and got up to investigate. Then, I followed him - the panther." 

Blair's frightened irritation dropped away immediately. "Your panther?" 

"Yup." Jim sat down on one of the logs they had dragged into camp. 

"Here in the Cascade Forest? So - where did he lead you?" Blair sat on the other log. 

"To this old sweat lodge. Thing is, when I touched it, I saw... a man using it. Saw, I don't know, spirits around him, entering him, his thoughts." 

Blair leaned forward, face all fascinated. "You saw a trace memory? That is so - can we go back there? How detailed was the vision? Could you tell how long ago it was? The tribe markings, what tribe he was from? Wait, wait, don't say anything. Let me get my notebook and write this down. Wait, don't go anywhere!" Blair darted into the tent and began rummaging in his backpack. 

It seemed, Jim thought, that you could take the man out of the Anthropology Department but not take the anthropologist out of the man. 

"Ok, Jim, now, give me details," Blair settled on the ground, using his log as a back rest, pen poised. 

"Chief, why do you want to make notes?" He winced as Blair's eyes became all hurt. Damn, that dissertation mess still was an open wound. "I mean, I thought you had one of those photographic memories. Or are you getting forgetful in your old age?" 

The eyes released the pain and Blair grinned at him. "Just tell me everything. Absolutely everything." 

"Ok, Grandpa, but you sure you mean that?" 

"Maybe not. Ok, start with the panther. Was it the same as the other times you have seen it?" 

"Him." 

"Him? You know that?" 

"Think about it, Chief. I am going to have a female panther as a spirit animal?" He shook his head slowly. 

"That might explain why you raced after it. Pheromones." 

"We do not have that kind of relationship. Male panther, got that Darwin." 

"Right. So...the same kind of sighting?" 

"No. Those other times have been at night...dark. This was just before dawn." 

"Um, Jim, just before dawn, when it's dark." 

"Ok, but getting lighter." 

"Damn, Jim, that means you've been gone over two hours." 

"What? Can't be." 

"It's coming up to 9 now. Did you zone out?" 

"Didn't think so. Hmmpt." 

"Don't go wandering alone around here, man. Ok? " 

"Ok, Chief." 

"So back to the panther, how was this time different?" 

"All the other times but once, maybe twice - most other times the panther has been a part of a vision of the jungle in Chopec territory. This time, I was here - right here. In this camp and in this forest. And it had a different sense. It felt real." 

"Do you mean your other visions were like dreams but his time you were awake?" 

"That's one way to describe it. Other than seeing him in the loft once and ... the times I saw that spotted jaguar." 

His head came up sharply. "Times? You saw that jaguar more than once? When other than the grocery store?" 

"In your office at the university." 

"You never mentioned that." 

"Guess we weren't talking enough around that time." 

"Yah." Blair glanced away and then twitched one shoulder. "So, the panther was in a real setting this time. Led you to a clearing. Where?" 

"Back that way." He pointed to the left. "Ran into the clearing and around the remains of a sweat lodge. I knew... I knew he wanted me to come to the lodge, to touch it." 

"How did you know?" 

"I don't know. Because he walked around it? Something." 

"Ok, you touched it and saw a vision." 

"I saw it in use. Covered with fir and pine branches. I could see the man inside." 

"Through the door way." 

"No. There was a deerskin over the doorway. No, I could ... I went through the walls into the lodge. Saw the steam and smoke rising from the fire pit. Smelt the sweet grass that he had used to purify the place and call the spirits to him." 

"How was he dressed?" 

"Wasn't dressed." 

"No loin cloth?" 

"Didn't see one but it was smoky and steamy." 

" How was his hair? Any beads or feathers? Body markings?" 

"Loose hair, over one shoulder. No beads or feathers I noticed. Had a bit of paint or something in the middle of his chest. A design like a bird. And a dark mark on his forehead, a stripe like charcoal from his hairline to the bridge of his nose." 

"Anything else?" 

"Not on him but he had something, like a spoon made from a shell hooked into a stick. He was also holding three feathers tied together that he used to fan the smoke at himself as he sang. Low voice, couldn't make out words. He was sort of  
mumbling, rocking a bit. Then I saw them, in the mist and smoke." 

Blair's eyes got wide. "Them?!" 

"Like spirits, ghosts. Almost part of the mist swirling around him then into him." 

"You sure it was not just wisps of steam or smoke?" 

"No. I thought that myself at first but then when I looked more closely, they had definite form. Faces though not exactly human." 

"What did they look like?" 

"Faces distorted, strange. The man yelled when they entered him and it sort of startled me. I stopped touching the lodge and the vision was gone. Didn't have time to see all the details. I looked around and then I heard your voice, calling me. So I came back here. Know what it all means?" 

"Oh man, that is... I am not sure. As I said, maybe a trace memory from a member of a local tribe using the sweat lodge. You are so damned lucky." He capped his pen and closed the notebook. 

"Lucky?" 

"Sure. You know how much I would give to see the kind of things you do? I am supposed to be a shaman and the only vision I have ever seen was when I was dead and I saw our animal spirits leap into each other, into a bright light. That is it." 

Very quietly, "Never going to be a shaman." Blair rose and turned away to stare out onto the lake. 

Jim felt Blair's pain and needed to ease it. To resolve his problem, but how? Then, an idea. 

"Chief, you know, I remember something Incacha told me one night. We were talking about learning. About what we had done to become who we were. He was describing his early days studying the shaman's way. Found it hard until an elder shaman arranged a special ceremony. Incacha didn't explain it all to me... I got the impression he was saying more than he should... but it involved taking an hallucinogenic." 

"Ah, Jim, are you suggesting I do peyote or something?" 

"Of course not, Chief. I would have to arrest you and then myself. No. But I do have another suggestion." 

"Yes?" 

"The sweat lodge. To promote the seeing of visions, that why it was built, right?" 

"Yah. Yah. To let the spirits talk to us. To find personal enlightenment. Ok." He started to pace as he spoke, mind working at speed, hands cutting through the air. "So we need to set up the sweat lodge, cover it. Start the fire to heat the rocks. Have water there and sweet grass or something like that. Oh man and I need to prepare. Fast. Purify my body. Meditate or whatever. Got to pick the right time too." 

"I can take care of getting the lodge ready, Chief. You find the sweet grass." 

"I thought I saw some wild sage. We could use that. Got to purify the space too. Burn the sage, smoke the lodge...and me." 

"Right time you said." 

"Yah. Going to take all day to get ready but if we can be ready just at sunset... that's about 7:30 these days... that would be a good time. Symbolic. Going into the darkness, to the time of spirits." He nodded. "Yup, at sunset." His stomach rumbled then. "The fasting is going to be a challenge." 

"Important you get lots of water into you, Chief. If you keep drinking water today, that should keep the monster there quiet. Ok, you go get the sage now and then just rest for the remainder of the day. I will take care of everything else." 

"What prayers you going to use for the sage burning?" 

"Chopec ones. The spirits will understand. Might even bring Incacha to us. Can't hurt. Want to see the lodge now?" 

"No, man. I should not go there until I am prepared." 

While Jim made his own breakfast, Blair wandered off to find some aromatic herb to burn. Before he departed, a quick comment with some humour, that he would steal Jim's meal if he was there. Jim ate quickly and washed up the dishes to  
avoid tempting Blair. 

The younger man came back with both sage and sweet grass and a couple of sheets of birch bark."I suggest we use the sage for purification and the sweet grass during the sweating." 

He folded the sage into a birch bark packet and handed it to Jim. The sweet grass he set aside in a second packet. Getting a large drink of water he sat down in his meditation position, just before the tent door. 

Filling a canteen with cool lake water , Jim headed off to work on the lodge. 

For the next four hours, Jim worked steadily: cutting a log up for fire wood and setting the wood deep in the fire pit on top of dried leaves and grass. Axing down pine and fir branches and weaving them around the wooden ribs of the lodge. Sweeping up accumulated leaves and pine needles inside the lodge and stuffing them firmly around the edges of the lodge poles. When he reached the back wall of the lodge, he was surprized to find a canvas sack under a large pile of pine needles. 

Inside were a deerskin, large enough to cover the doorway, a spoon made of shell with a wooden handle, a carved wooden bowl and last, a foot-wide leg-length rectangle of deerskin folded with a long and narrow strip of deerskin. He puzzled for a moment over these final pieces until he realized what they were. He replaced all the items in the canvas sack and set it just outside the lodge door. 

As he moved out into the sunlight, he wiped his wrist across his forehead and noticed how slick with sweat he was, how streaked with the bits of dust he had stirred up with the cleaning, not to mention the bits of fir and pine from the branches he had gathered. Not the way he should be to conduct the purifying of the lodge. He headed to a small stream he could hear gurgling nearby and stripping off his t-shirt, rinsed his face and chest and arms and hands, the cold water chilling him. The t-shirt, turned inside out served as a damp towel but it was the sun warming his bare skin that dried him as he stood in the clearing gazing at his handiwork on the lodge. He basked in that warmth, loving the feel of it on his body. Then, somewhat reluctantly, he put on the flannel shirt he had removed before starting the heavy work. 

Settling himself in the doorway, facing in, he lit the sage Blair had given him and murmuring the prayers he had recalled Incacha using, waved the smoking leaves around inside the lodge. He held his breath, expecting to react badly to the sage but when at last he had to inhale, there was no negative reaction. Satisfied with the inside, he backed out and waved the smouldering sage around the outside of the lodge. Finally, he smoked the deerskin door covering and the other items in the canvas sack. 

As a last step, he located some additional rocks and made a second fire pit outside the lodge, this one for him to sit by during the ceremony. A few logs and dried grass and sticks and it was ready. By this time it was near 3 o'clock and Jim's own stomach was rumbling hungry. Time to head back to camp. 

When he stepped into the clearing near the lake, Jim saw that Blair was still in meditation. As silently as he could, he found some bread and cheese and an apple and refilled his canteen. His original intent was to go back to the lodge clearing to eat but there was something about the way Blair's face looked in repose that kept him near. He sat on one of the firewood logs and ate his meal, eyes cataloguing all the visible bits of the man before him. 

He had studied Blair in the past when the younger man was not aware but not since that terrible day near the fountain. There had been no time since to do that in a relaxed way. Certainly not the intense, panicked obsession while sitting by Blair's hospital bed as the younger man recovered from the effects of drowning. That was not the same thing at all. No, he wanted to simply appreciate what he could see, enjoy and in some way imprint that face, those hands, that body on his mind. This moment of tranquil observation was one that he had needed for months. 

As he sat, he could feel the last bits of tension melt away. His heart aligned its rhythm to Blair's, his lungs to his rate of inhalation. On a deeper level, even his brain waves were subtly altered to co-ordinate with Blair's own pattern, as two halves of a puzzle fit together, each with its own form but interconnecting so neatly. Jim was healing from all the damage done in the weeks leading up to Alex Barnes' attack on his Guide. He hoped that Blair was healing too. That this weekend and the ceremony they were about to perform would help Blair finish that healing. 

A soft exhalation and Blair came out of his meditation. He blinked and stared over at Jim. "Hey, man, you're back soon." 

"It's nearly 4 o'clock, Chief. Not so soon." 

"Really? Wow. That is almost a five-hour meditation. Never been that long before. Must be the place. So peaceful." 

"It is that, Chief. So, now what?" 

"Got to purify my body but it is too soon. Do that just before I come to the lodge." 

"I need to get the fire started to heat the stones. Anything you need from me in the meantime?" 

"Nope, can't think of anything. You do need to come and collect me since I do not know where the lodge is exactly. A ceremonial thing too, being led to the lodge." 

"This purifying of your body, what are you planning?" 

"That waterfall. Thought I would wash there. Going to be damned cold but that will be part of the purification, undergoing that chilling." 

"Ok, so I should meet you there and led you from there?" 

"Yah that sounds right." He paused and studied his boot tops. "You know how much I appreciate this, don't you?" 

"Anything like the way I feel when I think how much I owe you for being my Guide?" 

"Aw, that is nothing in comparison." 

"Don't sell yourself short, Chief. You keep me sane. Most of the time. When I listen to you." 

They stared at each other, thinking about all they had been through in the last six months. When the moment went long, Jim coughed and Blair turned toward the tent. 

"I better get some towels. See you at the falls in an hour?" 

"Better make that an hour and a half. Ok?" 

"Right." 

Jim headed back to the lodge, Blair into the tent. 

* * *

An hour later, the fire had got to the hot coal stage, the heat rolling off of it amazing. To protect the lodge, Jim soaked the branches and wooden ribs in water he hauled from a small stream nearby. Now he resoaked them. When all was damp enough to withstand the heat of the fire while he was gone, Jim started for the falls, carrying the deerskin rectangle and its tie. He would light the outside fire pit when he returned and could supervise it. 

He could hear the roar of the water long before he reached the falls. The mist rolled his way on the light wind. It refreshed him after the heat and smoke of the fire pit. Around a stand of pine and there it was, a twenty-five foot sheet of water crashing down into a deep pool at the edge of the lake. Jim thought the pool owed its depth to the tons of water beating for centuries on the rocky ledge at the lake's edge. 

He froze as he saw Blair, still in the falls. Naked, body running with water, standing in a space between the water and the rock wall on the inside of the falls, where the water's force was not quite so strong. A natural shower spot. 

Jim's Sentinel vision pierced the spray and locked onto that body so intriguingly displayed. Blair was not body shy but nevertheless, Jim had rarely seen much of him uncovered and never entirely naked. What he saw now took his breath. 

A body sturdy, strongly muscled, simply not as large as his own. Back and shoulders nicely defined. A chest that might go to a barrel shape in mid-life but was now just broad with ribs showing above the flat stomach. Lean hips, the pelvic bones visible, cupping belly and loins. Thighs and calves sturdily built. The buttocks, round and not too prominent, a nice handful. And running from just below his throat all to the way to his pubis an inverted triangle of dark hair. Jim's own body was reacting and all of it focussed on his groin. He swung away and tried to get himself under control. 

How could he let Blair see his arousal at the sight of his partner? That would be the end of their friendship. Of Blair's renewed trust. A couple of deep breaths and he turned back to the falls. 

Blair was just working his way out of the water, picking his steps carefully. As he came closer, Jim could make out the genitals hidden in the spray. Considering how cold he must be, the penis was a good size, cut as one would imagine for a man of Jewish origin, thick and deep pink. The testicles were dusty with dark hair and now, pulled up to his body in the chilling of his flesh. All Jim wanted to do at that second was to wrap his hands around these private parts and warm them. Caress them. Suck... 

Before he could do something that he would regret the rest of his life, Jim stepped back and looked around for the towels Blair would have brought with him. There they were, hung on a bush in the sun. A wise man, the Guide. A natural heating rack. Jim snatched one up and held it out as Blair came up the bank. 

"Here you are, Chief." 

Blair was startled, not having looked up until that moment. So startled that his hands did not reach for the towel or move to cover himself for at least 20 seconds. All eyes staring at Jim looking at him. At a movement from Jim, he sprang to life. 

"Oh, ah, hi. Ah. You are early." He grabbed the towel and wrapped it around his hips. His face had gone scarlet. 

"Not really, Chief. It's past 5:30." He passed over the second towel. "It did take me a bit to get into the water. Damn cold." Blair scrubbed vigorously at his chest and arms, then down his legs. 

Finally, his head disappeared and as he rubbed his hair, a muted voice, "Felt good though. Like a reverse sauna. Guess I am going to the hot sauna now." He pulled the towel up enough that his eyes appeared. "Everything ok at the lodge?" 

"All ready, Chief. I ah... I found this in the lodge. Guess they used to wear this during a sweat lodge ceremony. Thought you might..." 

Blair hung the second towel around his shoulders and took the deerskin from Jim. He unfolded it and held it to his body, as if he intended to wrap it around his hips like the towel. 

Jim gestured with his hands. "Goes between the legs...the tie around your waist to hold it up." 

Another blush. "Oh, right. Of course. I knew that. So you think I should wear this instead of my boxers?" 

"Your decision, Chief but it is what they used so I thought you might..." 

"No, no. I will put it on. Just never thought I would be running around the north woods in deerskin." He squeezed the deerskin in his hands. "Sure is soft. Like silk or velvet ..." 

Jim mumbled, "I'll get your clothes here," and he turned his back to give Blair some semblance of privacy. He heard the towel drop and some fumbling and mumbling and then a request. 

"Ah... could you give me a hand here. I can't quite get this ...ah." 

Jim looked. Bent forward in his effort to dress, Blair was clutching the front and back of the loincloth in tight bunches against his body, the tie dangling uselessly from his fingers. Those blue eyes peered through the curtain of his hair, beseeching. Jim put the pile of clothes down on a convenient bush and stepped to Blair's side. Gently, he disengaged the tie from Blair's grasp and looped it around his waist loosely. 

"Ok, now, you need to pull the deerskin up to your chest and mid back. No, not that tight, just so I can get this around ...yes, like that. Once I have this done up...there... you can let the ends hang down front and back. That comfortable? Youmight want to loosen it ...underneath, at the bottom. Don't want it binding when you are sitting. Yah, that looks... ok.. All done." 

With his long hair and exotic features... Jim had always wondered if Blair had native blood... and the deerskin loin cloth, Blair was the image of a man of the forest tribes. Even his olive skin tone added to the impression. He needed only a bit of body paint and some feather or beadwork to complete the image. 

Blair was staring down at himself and then glanced at Jim. "Looks ok?" "Looks great. Like it was made for you." Or he was made for it. The deerskin cupped his genitals and pulled smooth over most of his behind, leaving his hips and outer thighs bare. The covering seemed more erotic than a naked body. Jim had to pull his eyes away before he did or said something. He forced his gaze up to Blair's face. "Going to be fine." 

The younger man's hair, still damp from the falls, was curling around his head but in the warmth of the sun, was steaming slightly as it dried. It fell, heavy, over Blair's neck and it occurred to Jim that would be uncomfortable like that during the sweat ceremony. Reaching to Blair's waist, he grabbed the end of the tie. Blair backed up a step. 

"What are you...?" 

"Need a bit of this for a hair tie." He snapped off a foot-long bit and drawing Blair's hair to the side, fed the deerskin under the mass of it. "You want it off to the side, like this or in the back?" 

"How about the side, where you have it." He was staring up into Jim's face as if enthralled. 

The Sentinel's hands shook slightly as he fastened the deerskin in a loose knot, firm enough to keep the hair away from Blair's neck and face. His hands wanted to caress that face, the neck but Jim curved his fingers into his palms and stepped away from temptation. "There. All ready to go. Oh, wait, what are you going to wear on your feet?" 

"Brought my sandals. Seemed the best." He grabbed the leather sandals from the branch where he had hung them and slipped them on. He picked up the packet of sweet grass and took a long breath. "Time to go." 

Jim had no words then, so he grabbed up the pile of clothes and the towels and silently led the way through the woods. He could hear Blair murmuring what sounded like 'come, spirits, come spirits,' over the crunch of his footsteps on the pine needles and old leaves. 

The sun was getting lower and under the high trees, all was shadowed and cool. Blair was shivering, Jim could hear him but he did not know if it was the cool air or anticipation of the ceremony. He realized then that they would need something, a blanket perhaps, to cover Blair after the ceremony. He could go back to camp but dismissed the idea. There were the towels and Blair's clothes he had carried from the falls. If Jim hung the towels near the fire, they would dry enough to wipe the sweat from Blair's body and the jeans and shirt would be warm. 

They entered the clearing and Blair caught his breath. "Oh, it is perfect, man. Just as I had imagined it." He stood staring at the lodge, arms wrapped around his chest. 

Jim set Blair's clothes on a large flat rock near the outside fire pit and hung the towels from a bush nearer the pit. He reached into the lodge and took two burning sticks out. Setting one aside after blowing the flames out, he slid the second into the dry grass and sticks in the outside fire pit. The grass and leaves caught immediately. Jim took the carved wooden bowl and the cooking pot from their camp and filled them in the stream. Finally, he picked up the now cool burnt stick and gestured to Blair where he still stood as if transfixed. 

"Chief, I thought you might like to have some... I could do a design using charcoal." 

"What? Oh, yah, that would be good." He moved to Jim's side. 

The Sentinel rubbed a long index finger down the edge of the stick until the tip was dark with charcoal. Then with a firm pressure, he drew it from Blair's forehead to the bridge of his nose. A second coating of his finger and he swirled it over his cheek bone in a half-arc. Two broad lines at the diagonal on his left bicep and a circle on his right bicep. Finally, a circle with  
two small triangles right above it as close to Blair's heart without getting lost in his chest hair as was possible. 

Blair's eyes were closed throughout but he looked down at the design on his chest once Jim was finished. "What is that?" 

"The best I could do for a wolf. Sorry, I'm not artist." 

"It's fine, Jim. I think the idea of it, of what you are trying to represent is more important than the image itself. So, now." 

"Got a bowl of water here. For two things. To sprinkle on the outer ring of stones to make steam. And for you to drink. No need for you to dehydrate. There is this spoon." He handed the spoon to Blair. 

"You made these?" 

"No, they were in that sack with the deerskin loin cloth and this," holding up the larger piece of skin, "the door covering." He gestured to the interior of the lodge. "You get in and I'll hang this." 

"Right." He slipped off his sandals and headed for the lodge doorway. 

"Stop, Chief. Forgot one thing." He picked up the remains of the sage bundle and lit it from the interior fire pit. When it was smoking, Jim began to walk around Blair, wafting the aromatic smoke around the young man. As he walked, Jim spoke the words Incacha spoke when praying for someone. Around twice and then he dropped the bundle into his outside fire pit. "Ok. Go ahead." 

Blair slipped into the lodge and when he was seated, Jim passed him the bowl of water. He hooked the deerskin door cover in place and just before he closed it, "I will be right here the whole time. If you need me... for anything, just call out." 

"Thanks, Jim. For everything ...thanks." 

Jim nodded and dropped the flap into place. He extended his hearing. Blair was settling into place. After a moment, he opened the birch bark packet of sweet grass and dropped a handful onto the hot embers. Immediately, the air was full of its delicate scent. The Guide's voice began a low chanting, "I open my heart, I open my mind. Come to me, spirits and speak," over and over. Jim moved the dial lower and settled himself on the ground, back to the rock. 

For over an hour he managed to keep his senses from reaching out to Blair but when there was a soft cry from inside the lodge he could not help himself. Hearing was there beside the Guide, listening to his heart rate, the breathing, the voice. Another cry, this time a welcoming one. Then a sigh and a repeated 'yes, yes, yes'. Calm, accepting words continued for five minutes and then all was silence. 

Using hearing as the path, Jim extended his sense of touch and assessed Blair's body temperature. It was high, near 100 degrees in the steamy heat of the lodge. His breathing was a bit laboured, his heart rate now over 110. All this was to be expected given the heat in the lodge but Jim continued to monitor Blair's vitals. 

Another ten minutes and Blair's body temperature was now approaching 103 and his breathing shifting into a shallow pattern. The pulse was fast, too fast. Time to get him out. Jim yanked the deerskin flap open and saw that Blair had fallen to his side and was unconscious. His skin, when Jim touched him, was hot, his pulse weakened. 

With his own heart racing in fear, Jim pulled Blair into the cooler air and settled him into his lap. The younger man's head lolled to one side, mouth falling open. Supporting the head on his left arm, Jim scooped handfuls of water from the cooking pot onto Blair's face and chest. After a few moments of this treatment, his heart rate slowed and strengthened and his breathing deepened. More water and the body temperature was lowering, now down to 101 and still falling. 

"Come on, Blair, open your eyes, buddy. Come on, come out of it. I have got you." Jim patted the face with more water from the pot and felt Blair regaining consciousness. The mouth closed and then opened to take a long, deep breath. The hands lifted from where they dragged on the ground and against Jim's right leg to curl protectively over his chest. Finally, the eyes blinked and opened. 

"Jim? What?" His voice was confused, muzzy. 

"You passed out. Kind of heat stroke. You're all right now." Jim's right hand brushed a lock of hair that had escaped from the tie back from Blair's forehead. His fingers stayed on the younger man's temple, thumb rubbing gently. 

Blair's eyes opened wide and with a beatific smile of wonder he raised a hand to Jim's face. "I saw them, man. They came to me. Spoke to me. It was incredible. They showed me things...I don't understand it all but I will." His finger tips touched Jim's cheek. "Now I can start to be a real shaman, all thanks to you." The firelight glowed over his skin. 

"You would have been without me. You would have found the way." But Jim had this desire to yell out his happiness for Blair. His mouth was grinning so wide it almost hurt. 

"Maybe, maybe. But you helped me. Showed me the path." 

Without any thought, Jim leaned down and touched his lips to Blair's. At the sudden inhalation below him, he jerked back. "I ... sorry... just..." 

Blair did not let him finish. He grasped the back of Jim's head and raising up, pressed his mouth to his Sentinel's lips. Jim froze and then wrapped his arms around Blair, drawing him close. He felt the lush mouth open under his lips and slipped his tongue into the sweet wetness. For a long moment, their tongues caressed and danced and they forgot to breathe. But the body has its needs and both of them jerked apart to take in rasping gulps of air. 

They stared, locked into an intimate embrace of eyes and arms, not prepared to move or speak or doing anything but press close. One long hand roamed up and down Blair's side, over the bare skin, from underarm to mid thigh. His supporting arm curved around the bare back onto the ribcage. Blair had a hand on the nape of Jim's neck, flicking the ends of his cropped hair. His left hand lay splayed on Jim's chest, patting gently. Both of them were breathing more shallowly as the caresses built. On the last pass downward, Jim's fingers encountered the velvety edge of the deerskin loin cloth where it pulled away from Blair's left buttock and made an entrance. The hand stopped in its tracks and an index finger slipped inside discovering the rising arc of a gluteus maximus. 

Suddenly, Jim became aware of Blair shivering. His errant hand retreated and spread over Blair's upper back. "Cold, love?" He felt no strangeness in uttering the endearment. It was right; it was who Blair was. 

"Want you. Please." Hoarse, rough. 

"Not here. Need to warm you." 

"Your body, your skin." He understood what Blair meant in their new connection to one another. Still, he knew Blair would be chilled if they stayed in the open. 

"There, in there." 

The lodge was still warm, the coals glowing darkly. Jim released the Guide and grabbing a couple of smaller logs, threw one onto the lodge fire and set the other to the side of pit. Blair had scooted into the lodge and waited for his lover, arms and legs opened. Jim rose and slipped off his boots, sweatshirt and pants, setting them with Blair's own clothes. Clad only in his black boxers and his white socks, he crawled into the lodge and right into Blair's embrace. 

Mouths met and passions fired. Blair's hands were pulling Jim down onto him, between his legs. The heat of groins met and flared. The pulse of blood filled, expanding. The hardness of male organs jabbed into each other. Thought flew away, only need left and that need intense, demanding. Hands roved over revealed skin and sought to find entry where it was not revealed. 

"Off, off," Blair demanded shoving Jim's boxers down his thighs and off his legs. 

The Sentinel was unable to speak but the rational part of his mind knew it would be more of an effort to strip the Guide of his loincloth. To regain sufficient control, Jim pulled back. At Blair's moan of distress, "Easy, love. Need to untie this knot. Relax, not going anywhere." 

In a wanton gesture that Jim was sure he would remember to his dying day, the Guide threw his arms up to curve above his head and splayed his legs wide, canting his hips to the left. Somewhere in his passage from outside the lodge to where he sprawled, he had lost his hair tie and the tumbled mass was spread out behind him on the ground. His broad fingers were idly combing through it, raising tendrils of it as if in offering to his lover. His neck arched back, revealing more of his throat and he moaned softly, tongue running over his full lips. 

Jim had to close his eyes a moment to maintain enough sense to finish undoing the knot in the loin cloth's tie. The Sentinel's hands shook but he managed the knot at last. One hand lifted the deerskin away, displaying the heated wonder of the Guide's engorged genitals. Jim rocked back on his heels, staring. It was everything he had imagined and yet was entirely new. The Sentinel tugged the loincloth free and set it aside. 

Impatient, the Guide moaned at him and wiggled his hips, causing the wonder to bob. A laugh burst from Jim's mouth, and he dove down to wrap his lips around that heated beauty dancing before him. The Guide rose with a cry, his hips jerking upward, driving his penis deep into Jim's mouth and nearly gagging him. The Sentinel pushed his mate's hips down and lifted his mouth from the purpled head of the cock. The Guide began mewling in protest. 

With a growl, the Sentinel rose over the Guide and pushed forward on his knees until he aligned their cocks. With a thrust, he pressed his own erect member down against the Guide's groin, trapping both his cock and the Guide's between their bodies. A rocking thrust drew a groan and a reciprocal thrust from the Guide. The movement sped up becoming a powerful slap of flesh on flesh. The Sentinel grabbed the Guide's shoulders to keep him in place and the Guide clutched the Sentinel's biceps as a lever point. 

The sound of their voices rose like a keening, an expression of the passionate agony building in both their bodies. Then they were there, the place the agony is the most intense and the drive to relieve it takes over the strongest mind. Or brings the oddest impressions. The Sentinel heard the howling of the wolf answered by the panther's scream as every muscle in his body grew taut. His mouth clamped onto the edge of an offered throat and bit down. Sense, thought, being: all evaporated in a flash. Then darkness. 

* * *

Awareness again but barely aware. All that was left was the hot semen bathing their stomachs and the ability to breath again. Then the feel of sweat slicked flesh heating him from below and a huffing accompanied by pushing hands. He rolled to the right, landing on his side in the earth. The other... the other... his mate. His Guide. It was his Guide laying there, an arm around the Sentinel's waist, snuggling close. He extended an arm to pull closer, to reassure himself that the Guide was well. To feel the beating of his heart and the warmth of his body against his own flesh. To maintain the territory claimed. 

More awareness. He was laying in Blair's arms, he was wrapped in Blair's embrace. They were both naked. Naked and sticky. He had come to sexual fulfilment with Blair. They had brought each other off. How was he going to explain this? Maybe just leave it all to Blair. Let him construct some Sentinel/Guide mythology to excuse this. 

But he did not want to excuse it. He wanted to be honest now. To let Blair know he loved him, was in love with him. Cared so deeply for him that he would do anything just to stay close. Including never doing this again, if that was what Blair wanted. He was not sure he could bear that but friendship was better than separation. Rejection. 

With one hand he found his boxers and wiped first Blair and then himself. No sound or movement from Blair. He slid the second log onto the fire and wished he had closed the deerskin flap to keep out the night's chill but he could not reach the doorway without disturbing Blair. His arm tightened around the younger man, the fingers of his right hand lost themselves in caressing Blair's head, the silken wonder of his hair catching at his nails where the work of preparing the lodge had roughened them. 

All of this was worth it. Blair had had a vision during the sweating. Anything was worth the expression on Blair's face as he related that fact to Jim. 

He sighed and lay still, wanting to be close with his Guide, his lover, as long as possible. Not wanting to awaken him. Quiet, he drifted off to sleep. 

* * *

The sound of an owl and a growling stomach woke Jim. It was deep night. Moonlight bathed the clearing and even found all the holes through the weaving of pine and fir covering the lodge to light the interior. The fire had gone out, the night air chilled him. A shiver from Blair and an effort to get closer to the warmth of Jim's body. As if he could get any closer. A groan, a sigh and a movement. 

"Jim? You awake." 

"Yes, Chief." 

"What time is it?" 

Peering through the open doorway, "From the position of the moon, I'd say near midnight." 

"Holy smokes. Wow. Um...are you hungry?" A familiar rumble from Blair's stomach. 

"Yes," but he did not want to let Blair go. 

"Can we go get something to eat now? I haven't eaten since last night. Been a while since I fasted. Have this overwhelming desire for ...anything edible." He lifted his arm from Jim's waist and attempted to roll back. "Ah, Jim, you goin' let me go here?" 

"No." 

"Ok. But if you do, I promise I will come back...once I have had some food. We could go together, not be fully apart at all. Deal?" 

A reluctant, "All right," and he withdrew his arm and pulled his leg from between Blair's thighs. 

The younger man sat up and slapped his arms around himself. "Got pretty chilly, man. Fire went out. Um...where are my clothes?" 

"Out there, on the big rock." Jim knew the clothes were going to be cold and damp from the dew. 

Blair crawled out of the lodge and dashed over to the rock. From where he lay, Jim heard, 'shit, shit, cold, cold, oh cold. Shit.' He followed the Guide's lead and exited the lodge. Blair had on his jeans and shirt but was back to slapping his arms around himself. 

"Hey man, we should have thought to bring our clothes into the lodge last night. All damp now." 

"We weren't thinking too much last night, Blair. Either of us. 

An impish grin. "Too full of lust, hnn?" 

At least Blair did not seem upset they had had sex. Jim picked up his damp jeans and pulled them on. He recollected as he was doing up the buttons that his boxers were in the lodge, all sticky with semen. He would deal with that later. 

* * *

Their midnight meal was simple: the remains of the bread and cheese with cups of cold lake water. It was sufficient to get them to morning. Rather than going back to the lodge, they undressed and crawled into their sleeping bags. Or they did once Blair had zipped the two bags together to make one big sack. He slipped in first and held the opening up for Jim. 

The Sentinel knelt down and before getting in, asked, "Are you ok with this?"  
"Sure, we'll keep a lot warmer this way." 

"No, I mean what happened in the lodge... us, together." 

A soft smile. "I have been waiting for that to happen for four years, man. It was fantastic." He stopped speaking and looked a bit worried. "Did it bother you?" 

Jim touched Blair's cheek and moved into the bag to cuddle the beloved body close. "Only that it took us so long. And that it was over so fast." 

A chuckle, "We got time now and...we have had our fuel cells re-energized. Beam me up, Spock." 

A sharp laugh and Jim rolled over, pulling Blair on top. "I believe the line is 'beam me up, Scotty.' Thought you were a child of Star Trek?" 

"I am and who cares about Scotty? Or that Jim? I have always thought you were more like Mr. Spock. All that stoic calm. What if I got you some plastic pointy ears and a bottle of green dye, would you...?" 

"No way, Bones." 

"Bones? Hey..." 

"Always thought there was something going on between those two. Spent way too much time sniping at each other." 

"Jim! I never took you for a slash fan." 

"Slash? What are you talking about? Come here, my little space doctor and tend to my needs." With that, Jim pulled Blair's mouth to his and began a thorough plundering, his hands locked into the long hair to hold him in place. 

Blair's hands were trapped between their bodies but found an occupation in teasing Jim's nipples. It was a slow torture but wonderful. Jim did not want him to stop. Ever. 

Their loving was long and tender. They explored every part of the other with gentle caresses and tentative touches; each discovered the best places to drive the other to distraction. By mutual consent they did not move beyond rubbing their groins against each other but the results of that action were entirely satisfactory so it did not matter. There were more kisses and licks and twice, Jim made raspberries on Blair's chest. Laughter and sighs and soft words. The best, from Jim's perspective, happened right in the middle of it all. Blair stopped moving, stopped caressing and held Jim back with one hand in the centre of his chest. 

"Love? What is it?" 

"Haven't said it, need to say it." Blair swallowed and got very serious. "You are... I love you so much. Way more than I have ever loved anyone. I am yours and without you I only exist. Only really live in your acts of love." 

Jim thought he was going to burst into tears and so he was unable to say anything in return. All he could do was caress Blair's face again and again. Luckily his Guide understood the message perfectly. Perhaps ten minutes later, Jim managed to say a gruff, 'love you so much' before kissing Blair breathless. Funny how it was easier to say 'I love you' if you went first but so much harder when it was in reply. 

As the moon began to descend, they were both asleep wrapped around each other, Jim's head pillowed on Blair's chest, one hand hidden in his hair. 

* * *

The rest of the weekend was paradise. Love making and cooking and love making and fishing and wandering along forest trails and love making and standing under the falls and love making. Finally, making love on the sandy beach, feet in the lake water. One thing they did learn: do not make love directly on the sand. Getting the gritty residue out of all the secret places of the body was a bore and it was exceedingly uncomfortable if you did not do a good job. 

Twice, in meditation, Blair had been able to reach his spirit guide. It was as if the first vision had opened a locked door. Now he only had to knock to be let in. He was feeling very comfortable that becoming a shaman was not beyond him. His next challenge was to see if he could get Incacha's spirit to talk with him, to guide him as he guided Jim. 

Blair suggested they buy a bottle of Steve's favourite tipple as a thank you. Jim said he had already done that. 

"So you had all this planned and figured I was easy? A push over?" The irritation in the voice was startling until Jim saw the twinkle in the eyes. 

"No, I am the push over. The Panther and the Wolf had it planned and they simply instructed me to make the purchase." 

Blair smirked. "My Sentinel, the bottom who follows orders so well." 

Jim loomed over Blair. "Who you calling a bottom?" 

Blair did not back down. "You." 

"Ok," and a laugh. 

There were things they needed to work out about the relationship and things they needed to learn. Though both had been with a man before, their experiences were limited. They knew there were physical dangers in male/male loving that they  
wanted to avoid. Blair undertook to do the necessary research but both of them would discuss and make decisions. 

The one decision made was that knowledge of their relationship was not for public consumption. It was too new to share and there were implications for the job they needed to assess. Naomi and Simon would be the first to know but not yet. 

* * *

A week after they were home, Blair arrived at the loft a bit late to find supper ready and a large flat box tied with string on the dining room table. 

"What is that?" 

"A box." Jim kept stirring the pasta sauce. 

"Ha, ha. Whose is it and what is it and what is it for?" 

"Yours. Open it. You will know." 

Blair studied Jim's face but the Sentinel had his poker expression on. No messages there, except Jim's obvious desire that Blair open the box. 

"Something isn't going to jump out at me, promise?" 

A smile but no reply. 

With some trepidation and a caution any bomb squad member would be proud of, Blair undid the string on the box. He turned the box all around, looking for writing to indicate where it might be from. Jim had made sure there was no such  
information. 

"Can I shake it?" 

"It's yours... but," forestalling the threatened shaking, "I wouldn't if it were mine." 

"Right. Breakable. 'kay. Time to lift off the cover. Pass me that apron." 

"What?" 

"The apron. I am fond of this shirt. Don't want it stained." 

"Chief, no danger of staining your shirt. Take my word." 

Another long stare at Jim. "You have never openly lied to me against my best interests." 

"All those qualifiers, you sound like a lawyer." 

"No need to be nasty. Ok. Here we go." Gingerly he lifted the lid, holding it in front of himself so that any exploding bits would blast toward the kitchen and Jim. As a result he did not immediately see what was in the box. "No explosion." 

"I told you." 

He dropped the cover and stared into the box. "Oh my. Oh my. Oh my." 

Jim abandoned the sauce and came to Blair's side. "It's a dream catcher. Made by a native friend of mine." 

"You had this made for me?" 

"Yes. The feathers, the shell and those bits of wood and this stone, I gave them to him." 

"From our campsite?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh." One finger went out to touch the mentioned items as if they might break. "Oh." Then in a second, Blair had thrown himself into Jim's arms and was half hiccuping sobs as he clutched the bigger man. 

"Blair? It is all right, isn't it? Blair, look at me." 

"I can't." 

"Why?" 

"I'll really cry then. That is so wonderful. So perfect. I never knew what a romantic soul you had. Oh, Jim, I love you more than I can say. Hold me, hold me tight." 

Jim felt like he might cry too but instead he wrapped his arms more securely around Blair. After three minutes and no sign that Blair was going to let him go, he murmured, "Babe, we need to move into the kitchen." 

Blair raised his head and looked up but kept a firm hold on Jim. "Why?" 

"I need to turn the sauce and the pasta off." 

A hiccuped laugh and Blair loosened his grip enough for Jim to walk, arm in arm with him over to the cook island. A quick click of the burners switches and the moving of pots to cool burners. 

"Let's go up stairs, Jim. Let's put up the dream catcher and make love under its aura." 

As they walked toward the stairs, Jim murmured, "Yes, songollay. Yes, sonqo suwa." 

"What does that mean?" 

"Songollay means my beloved in Chopec." 

"And songo sowa. 

"Sonqo suwa. Heart stealer. Another way to say dream catcher." 

It took a while before they made it up the stairs. 

Fin 


End file.
